Ace Komrade
by Nootardby
Summary: An action-packed, yet weird story of two brave individuals, Blaze and Cipher, in their quest to find their true identities. Contains some language.


Warning: Outrageous humor/stuff that may not make sense. Side effects include mild nausea, cramped tummy, excessive compulsive laughter, resentment towards the author, and bitter aftertaste of boredom.

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Ace Komrade: Budget Cuts

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A solitary figure was walking lifelessly in total darkness with a single spotlight shining magically on him from somewhere. A sad, sentimental music played in the background.

"I havest been wondering . . . everyone around me hast a name, a face. But . . . I don't knowst my real name. And my face ist a picture cutout of Motormouth Chopper's arm blocking my face" Blaze said in a soliloquy. "Oh, whyst, oh whyst?"

The music continued for 10 minutes as Blaze, with his picture face, stood in silence.

"Oi! Quit being so sentimental!" said an approaching individual with another spotlight following him.

"Yeah" he quickly changed his tone. "Cut the music. That wast, I mean, was tiring. Thought that introduction approach might work, you know? Like Kujibiki Unbalance's opening"

"What's that?" Cipher asked.

"An anime in Genshiken"

"What's that?"

"Another anime?"

"What's that?"

". . . Never mind. Introduce yourself"

"I'm Cipher. Like Blaze, I have no name and my face is censored/ mosaic-ed like in porn movies and-"

"If I come in front of the censored part like this" Blaze waved his hand in the way of Cipher's face, "this body part of mine becomes censored too. Fun! Look, I can middle finger you like this and you won't know what I did. Awesome!"

"Want me to censor that picture face of yours?" he threatened.

"Talking about faces. We are not the only ones with this matter-of-life-and-death-where-our-balls-are-at-stake problem, right?"

"Well, Mobius One is exempt because someone up there thinks he's the best pilot evah. And our compadre from AC 6 can't be here yet since the author hasn't finished making him fly the Ace mode with the crappiest planes"

"Talking about best pilot, he made me finish Ace in a Hawk training jet" said Blaze.

"Bah, he made ME finish in a Mig-21BIS" Cipher retorted.

". . . Now that's just plain hardcore. Complete, total otaku"

"Right? –whisper- He must have no life- end whisper-"

"How many times you died in his hands?"

"Lesse, missile, crash, gun, missile, kamizake . . . 3762 times" Cipher replied.

"Hmm. . . funny, it's the same with me. I wonder where that poor AC6's pilot is at."

"Okay, that only proves how crappy the author's piloting skill was. How about OUR skills?"

"Then, let's decide this with a DOG fight" Blaze proposed.

"You're on. Same or different planes?"

"I choose you, Chihuahua!" Blaze threw a rolled up dog which somehow uncoiled itself and landed on its feet.

"Eh?"

"DOG fight, D.O.G. DOG-E"

"Eww, that's inhumane. Look at that cute little puppy. Puppy, puppy, puppy, Come to mamma"

Cipher made abnormally funny noises intended to attract the seemingly harmless, small animal. With its wagging tail, the Chihuahua approached his finger before chopping down on it.

"ARGHGHGHGHGHghghghghghg3.141592653589793– up till 40 digits-. Okay, you stupid, dirty animal beast! Go! Hush puppies!"

"That's a freaking brand, you animal activist faggot!" said Blaze.

"Calling me names? Me? You –bleep-–bleep-–bleep-–bleep-–bleep-–bleep-–bleep-legs–bleep-–bleep-–bleep-nipples"

"–censored-you–censored-–censored-mother–censored-–censored-sister–censored-–censored-father–censored-–censored-brother beggar–censored-–censored—censored"

"CUT-desu! Do it properly-desu. Dogfight using those planes-desu!" interjected a Japanese director who seemed to come in at a much needed time to facilitate a change from cursing scene.

Blaze and Cipher, who had been catfighting each other by pulling at each other's hairs, were by now covered fully behind Cipher's contagious mosaics. Only time can heal such injuries.

- 3600 seconds later -

"Hey, how come I get WW1's Fokker Dr.I while Blaze gets a F-22 Raptor?" complained Cipher.

"It's just a body, desu. Both of you are driving propellers-desu" said the director. "Okay, just for the action appeal, I need a midair drag race for the beginning-desu"

"You mean standstill in the sky? Laws of physics, remember? We can't do that" said Blaze.

"In this story, anything is possible-desu. See?-desu"

Just as the "desu" was said after the question mark, both the Fokker and the Raptor became suspended in mid-air, thanks to the power of the pen over the sword.

"Okay, action!– desu" shouted the director.

The lone cameraman next to the director was so used to filming much faster stuff that the camera frame zoomed left past the prop driven planes.

- Dozens of seconds later –

"Prop, rrr, prop, rrr" came the engine noise as both planes entered the camera frame.

"Hey, director- san, yo! Poot-poot planes make this stupid noise?" shouted Cipher.

"Shut up-edus, I mean- desu. Now, action! – de arimasu"

Blaze and Cipher began circling each other with their planes in an attempt to see the other's tail. Such action is a clear illustration of the term 'dogfighting' for dogs smell each other's crotch when they meet. This certainly makes one wonder why would anyone observe such events in the first place and then decide to apply the term to air battles.

-Cue merry-go-round tune-

Blaze and Cipher continued making circles in the sky. The two pilots, the director and the cameraman yawned as they waited for the author to develop the story.

"SEED mode on! Color purple…Ah ha, finally, I got you Cipher!" Blaze exclaimed when he magically pointed his nose directly at Cipher's butt, I mean, tail.

"What's SEED?" Cipher asked.

"A super, god power from Gundam Shiite. Just like Newtype flash from Gundam Sunii"

"What's the color?"

"Director Mitsuo Hussein deemed purple's the best, pink the purest, green the gayest, and red the weakest"

"Oh . . . Can I have that too?"

"No, enough talk! Fire missile!" Blaze announced.

He achieved lock-on and launched a missile which went 'prop, rrr, prop, rrr'.

"Oh, come on! The missiles are prop-driven too?" the Razgriz lead complained as the missile traveled at the same speed as the planes, therefore never hitting its target.

"Budget cuts-desu. We got no funds-desu. Most of our capital went to those planes and armaments-desu"

Their one hunky cameraman wore only a Speedo and used the old-fashioned reel camera. Next to him, the director wore only the top half of his directing attire.

-Due to censorship laws, we are unable to show you the crotch of the Japanese director-

"I don't think this story is going anywhere, do you?" asked Blaze.

"-Yawn- That missile still chasing me?"

"Dropped off a while ago. Apparently hit one of those two tall buildings down there. Now some country named USA wants to declare war on another country named Iraq"

"Huh, oh well"

Suddenly, Pixy's ADFX-01 Morgan appeared.

"Yo, buddy. Still alive?" asked the pilot.

"You, you, you –bleep-ing –bleep- -bleep- idiot. If it weren't for your documentary, I wouldn't have been a 'he'. No one would know my gender. I would have been a woman! A female kick-ass pilot!" shouted Cipher.

Just then, all became silent.

"He didn't come on to you, did he?" Pixy whispered to Blaze.

"All those advances . . . I thought they were friendly. . . NO! He/she took my innocence!! Argh, Nagase. Why?!!" Blaze cried oh-so-painfully.

"You shot me down and you moved on to another man!? Unforgivable! DIE!!" Pixy shouted.

A burst missile jettisoned itself from the Morgan and homed in on the Fokker. A brilliant explosion forming the shape of a broken heart ensued thereafter engulfing everything within a 1000 feet radius.

2 stick figures – one of which was mosaiced the whole time - minus their bottom halves fell out of the sky. They were writhing in pain from radiation burns.

"Why, oh why. Nagase!!!" cried Blaze.

"Why, oh why, cruel world!" cried Cipher.

By the alchemic power vested in the author by the Law of Equivalent Exchange, he used the essence of existence of the director and the cameraman to restore order in this messed up story.

"Oh, kami-sama!-desu Why?-desu. I have always admired your scrotum- desu. Why!?" director- san said as his physical body disintegrated.

-Meanwhile, at the essence of the cameraman-

"Aahh. I'm, I'm entering him, oh so hot and wet. Ah, feels so gooood. Oh, ah. I'm, I'm cu---AHHHH"

And so on the first hour, the author repaired the damaged sky and clouds. On the second hour, he cleaned the radiation contamination. The destroyed twin towers he rebuilt on the third hour, and on the fourth hour, he made two F-22 fighter planes. On the fifth hour, he made Blaze. And on the six hour, he made Cipher. He looked back and saw that all was weird. Thus, he rested on the seventh hour.

"Huh, that was strange" said Cipher.

"Yeah, what a retarded story"

"Well, now the author is snoring away and we got these spankin, brand-new planes, we should be heading north in our quest to find our faces and names"

"Why north?" asked Blaze.

"Don't ask me"

---


End file.
